The Color of Hope

CHAPTER FORTY





Libby and more than a dozen relatives arrived early at the high school, the landscape filled already with hundreds of people. The line began at one of the entrances and snaked down the sidewalk and around the parking lot. News reports had mentioned that family and friends would be wearing white with a red accent. Many in the crowd had done the same. The image was striking, especially against the backdrop of a sunny, cloudless sky.

A limousine service from a neighboring town had offered the use of as many as five cars. Since Teri’s family was small, she insisted that the Sanders family make use of them. The drivers dropped them off at the front, and an officer escorted them all inside. Stephanie and Teri went a different direction from the rest, who headed to the gym.

The scene inside was captivating. There were rows and rows of chairs with a big red bow tied around the back of each, and up front, a dazzling array of flowers—all of them red.

“Who tied all those bows?” Libby said. She mentally calculated the time it must have taken in her event-planning brain.

“I’m not sure,” Janelle said. “But a lot of people were volunteering to help however they could.”

“Students did it.” Charley gazed at the sight. “The varsity and JV volleyball teams spearheaded it.”

Two guys serving as ushers came to man their posts as time neared for the doors to open. They handed Libby and the others a program. Sam’s picture was on the cover—the one that had been shown on the news—with her full name and dates that reflected a life cut much too short. Libby opened it and skimmed the order of service, noting Todd’s and Travis’s names on the program.

Family members moved to take their seats behind the first two reserved rows as people started flowing in. Libby spotted Travis, though, and backed out of her row to speak to him.

“Save my seat,” she told Janelle.

Travis was talking to a guy Libby recognized as the owner of a funeral home in Hope Springs. As Libby understood it, a private graveside ceremony would take place later this evening. She waited for them to finish and approached him.

“Hey.” She hugged him, then looked into his eyes. “How are you doing?”

He took a moment to answer. “I don’t know. This is incredibly sad. So incredibly sad,” he said again. “It hit me hard when I walked in.” His eyes brimmed. “I just wish I could wind back time and rush into that house and save her. You know?”

“I know.”

She hugged him again, and he held on extra seconds. She felt him wipe a tear.

He sighed. “How did the reunion go with Aunt Gwynn and Keisha and everybody?”

Libby had told him of their plan to fly in. “Really good. But we’ll talk about that later. I know you need to focus.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m praying for you.”

“I needed this.” His gaze penetrated. “Thank you.”

Walking back, Libby saw Janelle talking to a group of women, probably from her Soul Sisters Bible study. Trina was among them, and Libby caught her looking straight at her.

She spoke when she got near enough. “Hi, Trina, how are you?”

“I’m doing well.” The smile wasn’t bright like prior times. “How about yourself?”

Libby nodded thoughtfully. “On a day like today, it would be hard to complain about anything.”

Trina nodded in agreement. “Amen.”

Libby took her seat and couldn’t help glancing behind at the people pouring in, many of them teens. Marcus had positioned himself near the entrance, talking to many of them. Charley was in a different area, hugging the girls who were in tears.

Janelle returned to her seat beside Libby, and Libby turned to her.

“I just realized,” Libby said. “Aunt Gwynn and Keisha are here.”

Janelle quirked a brow. “A little too much sun for you out there?”

“And your parents are in town too,” Libby said, “plus my dad. How often does that happen?”

“Let’s see,” Janelle said. “It’s happened once in my lifetime.”

Libby gave a single confirming nod. “There you have it.”

“There I have what?”

“You and Kory should get married tomorrow.”

Janelle showed surprise at the thought. “But nothing’s planned.”

“Nothing was planned last week either,” Libby said, “except to just do it.” She looked at Sam’s face on her program. “I don’t know about you, but I’m really struck by the need to make the most of every day God gives us.”